<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>And Be Loved Anyhow by boomerbird10</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24649519">And Be Loved Anyhow</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/boomerbird10/pseuds/boomerbird10'>boomerbird10</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tiva/Tivali Drabbles [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NCIS</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angsty but happyish ending, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Tumblr Prompt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:07:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,522</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24649519</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/boomerbird10/pseuds/boomerbird10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He'll keep letting her break his heart. Over and over again.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ziva David/Anthony DiNozzo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tiva/Tivali Drabbles [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1749793</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>And Be Loved Anyhow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Drabble written for the following prompt on Tumblr: "Take my hand." "Why?" "I'm trying to ask you to marry me, so take my damn hand!"</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"To be fully seen by somebody, then, and be loved anyhow - this is a human offering that can border on miraculous."</p><p>—Elizabeth Gilbert, <em>Committed: A Skeptic Makes Peace with Marriage</em></p>
<hr/><p>He found her when she didn't want to be found. She was hiding for a reason, but he spent a whole summer chasing her around the entire Middle East. Really, she should have known he would.</p><p>Something tells her he always will, if she lets him…</p><p>…and that's something she really, really can't do.</p><p>She sits against the headboard in the big old bed in the master bedroom of the big old farmhouse, watching him sleep. This place feels at once familiar and alien, a place that once brought joy but now brings only a slight solace from pain.</p><p>No, that's not true. The old farmhouse also brought reunion.</p><p>Opening the door for Tony wasn't the easiest thing that she's ever done. When he showed up a week ago, she'd been half torn between welcoming him and evading him. She knew he was coming, knew he'd been tracking her. He's as predictable as the sun rising in the morning, something that makes her ache in an awful way. He'll keep coming to find her, keep breaking his own heart over and over again.</p><p>He'll keep letting <em>her </em>break his heart. Over and over again.</p><p>They've been doing this dance for years, each getting close and then spinning away again, both afraid to make the leap that'll end in euphoria or flames. There's no middle ground with them. There never has been.</p><p>Now there's no going back. As they lay together in her ancient, creaky bed, they sit on the wrong side of a line that shouldn't have been crossed. Ziva studies the shape of the muscles of his back, watching as salt leftover from last night's dried sweat sparkles faintly in the early morning light. The long, unbroken curve of head, shoulders, spine, legs as he lays face down in the bed… it's an absolution and a curse. It's shouldn't-be and could-have-been and never-will-be-again. It's the taste of something long forgotten, something nostalgic and warm and kind to the senses, something homey but fleeting in its perfection. It's love, the kind that throbs and heals and tears all at once.</p><p>He must feel her eyes on him, because after a few minutes of silent, painful contemplation, she sees him turn his head to look at her. There's a vague smile teasing his lips as he surmises what she was doing before he woke, and something tells her he knows that this is more bittersweet than just sweet. "Morning," he murmurs, his voice grumbly from sleep but undeniably warm.</p><p>"Good morning," she replies softly, pushing curls away from her face. She doesn't attempt a smile, but it doesn't seem to bother him.</p><p>"How're you feeling today?" he wants to know.</p><p>She shrugs, looks out the window, watches a spider make its careful trek from one corner of its web to another, backlit by the rising sun.</p><p>Her non-answer is easily answer enough, and Tony nods. "I was afraid of that."</p><p>Ziva doesn't comment.</p><p>"You know I'm no psychologist, but I think if Ducky was here, he'd tell you it's healthiest to talk about what you're feeling."</p><p>"Talking changes nothing," Ziva utters softly.</p><p>"That might be true," Tony concedes, "but it might make you feel just the tiniest bit better. Or at least it might make <em>me </em>feel just the tiniest bit better."</p><p>If he's hoping for a smile, he doesn't get one, and she still won't look back at him. "I have told you how I feel, Tony. You must understand how difficult this is for me."</p><p>"Hell, Ziva, I <em>do </em>know. That's what's scaring me."</p><p>Ziva bites her lip, feeling it begin to tremble. She can't cry again—she's done too much of that lately. Now is hardly the time.</p><p>Tony presses on. "Would it help if I reminded you that none of this is your fault? Whatever crappy stuff your mind is telling you, it's wrong."</p><p>There's no answer. Ziva simply tugs the sheet tighter against her chest, feeling impossibly heavy. Sometimes, the world is an unbearably cruel place, and sometimes, she's the one who has brought the cruelty down on her loved ones.</p><p>Tony sighs and sits up next to her. He doesn't touch her, for which she's grateful, but he doesn't let her dissociate completely, either. "That's what I thought you'd say, you hopeless chatterbox." The words are teasing, but the tone is neutral. He knows he's not going to get much out of her now. "Ziva?"</p><p>"Yes, Tony?"</p><p>"You don't have to do this alone."</p><p>"Yes, I do."</p><p>He sighs suddenly and loudly, and when he speaks again, his voice is earnest. "No, you don't." He pauses for a moment and then from the corner of her eye, she can see him turn his head to look directly at her. "Take my hand."</p><p>The order is enough to truly capture her attention, and she tears her gaze away from the fat, struggling spider on the windowsill. "Why?"</p><p>"I'm trying to ask you to marry me, so take my damn hand!" Tony insists.</p><p>This surprises Ziva enough that she very nearly does as told out of reflex. "You are <em>what? </em>Tony<em>…"</em></p><p>"No, you don't get to argue with me. Not yet, anyway. Now please, give me your hand."</p><p>It goes against her better judgment, but Ziva shakily offers him her right hand.</p><p>"Not the correct hand, but I'll take what I can get," Tony mutters, more or less to himself. "Now, Ziva, hear me out. Marry me. Come home with me. I don't give a <em>damn </em>whether you ever pick up a gun again for the rest of your life, okay? If the Navy yard is hard for you to visit, if you can't handle seeing Gibbs' house, that's fine. I'll ask for a transfer. We'll go to California or something, okay? You can still have your space, and you can process and grieve and do what you need to do, but you won't have to do it alone."</p><p>"<em>Tony—"</em></p><p>"No, hang on, I'm not done yet! Geez, woman. Let a guy talk for a second." He squeezes her hand. "You may be used to solitude, and it may still be weird for you to be the most important part of someone's family. That's fine, I get it. It's an adjustment. But you can't just pretend you're not who you are to me, okay? You may have some grand plans of martyrdom and crying alone here for the rest of your life, but you're not the only one on the planet who gives a shit about what you do. I <em>won't </em>let you do this to yourself."</p><p>She's caught up on something he said, and she blinks at him. "Most important?" she echoes, her voice muted and disbelieving.</p><p>Tony shakes his head and laughs. "You're so smart, but so…" He stops himself before he insults her; that's not what he's trying to do here. "I like to think you've known for a while that you're—Ziva, you're everything to me. You're my best friend and you're my family. And if there's one person on this Earth who factors into every decision I make, it's you."</p><p>Despite promising herself that the time for tears is over, Ziva starts to feel a few leak from the corners of her eyes. Tony takes this as a good sign and soldiers on. "Marry me," he repeats. "Please. We'll figure it out. Or maybe we won't—I'm sure we'll drive each other nuts in two weeks or less—but whatever happens, we'll weather it together. We're Bonnie and Clyde, alright? Better on the same team than either of us could be alone. We're Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, we're Kirk and Spock—two halves of the same whole."</p><p>Tony kisses the hand that's still limp in his. "Come on. Marry me."</p><p>"Tony, I cannot simply—"</p><p>"I love you. Marry me."</p><p>The word love shocks Ziva into silence. Surely he doesn't mean that? As she looks at him, though, she realizes that of <em>course </em>he does. He would never say the words if he didn't feel them. He loves her and he wants to marry her, and… she can see it so plainly on his face that he wants above all else for her to <em>let him</em> love her. He wants her to accept the hand he's offering, a hand that will keep her head above the water.</p><p>None of that, however, surprises her more than when she feels herself nodding.</p><p>Tony's expression shifts from intense pleading to ecstatic in the space of a heart beat, and he drops her hand to cradle her cheeks. "I love you," he repeats, and the way he says it makes old words feel new and alive again. Then he kisses her, and though they've a long road ahead of them…</p><p>Ziva feels the slightest weight vanish from her heavy heart, and she thinks that maybe, just maybe, they'll figure out how to pull each other through it.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>